


The Great Turkey Tussle of 2016

by emphasisonem



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Beefy Bucky, Bucky is amused, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve's a tiny ball of rage, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 13:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8627242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emphasisonem/pseuds/emphasisonem
Summary: “Are you serious?” Steve asks, brow furrowing and lips curling into something close to a sneer. “I don’t want your money, pal. I just wanna give my ma a nice Thanksgiving. You’re gonna have to look elsewhere for a turkey. I will fuckin’ fight you for it.”The other man’s gray eyes widen comically as he looks down at Steve. “I’m not gonna fight you for a turkey, kid.”
  In which the boys meet trying to buy the last turkey in their local grocery store.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Steve and Bucky both fight over the last turkey at the grocery store on thanksgiving morning. 
> 
> As soon as I saw this I was dying laughing because it's such a perfect set-up for these two idiots. I hope you all love this as much as I do :)

Bucky must have forgotten to silence his cell phone before falling asleep because he wakes on Thanksgiving morning to the sound of it vibrating on his bedside table. The brunet reaches for it with a groan, running a hand across his face as he accepts the call from his baby sister.

“Becca, what the fuck?” Bucky yawns, back arching as he stretches. “Why you callin’ so early, kid?”

Bucky’s wide awake as soon as Becca starts speaking because she’s borderline hysterical as she explains that she dropped the turkey as she was going to put it into the oven.

“Wh-what am I gonna do?” Becca sobs, and Bucky’s hauling himself out of bed and rifling through the clothes piled on the chair in his bedroom for jeans and a hoodie. “I c-can’t rinse it and cook it anyway; I have cats! There’s hair and stuff on it! And I d-don’t have time to run out for another one! God, why-y did I think I could d-do this?”

“Becca,” Bucky soothes as he rummages through his sock drawer, pulling out a thick, woolen pair and tossing it onto his bed. “Kid, relax, all right? I’ll get a new turkey and bring it over. Ma and pop won’t mind if we end up eating a little later than we planned. Just breathe, OK?”

“O-OK,” Becca hiccups, then chuckles. “I’m so sorry, Buck. Thank you for helpin’ me.”

“That’s what big brothers are for, kid,” Bucky replies. “Now lemme get dressed and take care of the turkey situation, all right? I’ll text you when I’m headin’ your way.”

Bucky hangs up and dresses quickly, chuckling the whole time. He grabs his keys and pulls on a leather jacket and boots before leaving his apartment and setting off for the grocery store a couple blocks away, confident that they’ll still have some turkeys this early in the day.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s thrilled that his mother has an unexpected Thanksgiving off. More often than not, Sarah Rogers, a nurse, works doubles at the hospital on holidays. When he was younger, it was because Steve was sickly and they needed the money for his medical bills. Now it’s so that the younger mothers Sarah works with can spend the day with their families. Through some incredible stroke of luck, Brooklyn Hospital is overstaffed for the day and Sarah’s been sent home.

Of course, because his ma usually works Thanksgiving, they have none of the holiday staples. Steve usually just orders Chinese and watches Christmas movies all day. So, when she announces they can have a real Thanksgiving feast this year, Steve jumps up, dresses and heads to the grocery store on the corner for the fixings.

The market is incredibly quiet this early in the morning, and the only sound Steve hears is the squeak of his sneakers on the linoleum floor as he rolls his cart through the market. He heads toward the back where the meat counter is located to grab the most important part of any Thanksgiving feast.

And miracle of miracles, there’s one turkey left. It’s far too big for the two of them - a 22 pounder - but Steve figures that just means there’ll be plenty of leftovers for sandwiches in the days after Thanksgiving. Steve’s reaching for it, grinning like a fool, when another hand enters his line of vision. It’s heading straight for the turkey.

“Hey!” Steve cries, gripping the netting around the turkey tightly. But the other guy’s got a good hold on the bird, too, along with a look of shock on his face.

It is, Steve thinks, a very handsome face. The guy’s got at least six inches on him, shoulder length brown hair tucked under a baseball cap, and a layer of stubble that gives him sort of a sexy lumberjack vibe. Broad-shouldered and beefy, the guy’s got the physique to match said vibe. He’s nearly as mouth-watering as this turkey’s going to be once Steve's mother’s finished cooking it.

Steve jerks back, eyes narrowing as he says, “Look, pal, this is the first Thanksgivin’ my mom’s had off in years, so you gotta let go because I need this turkey.”

There’s a small smirk playing at the corner of the brunet’s lips as he sizes Steve up, and it’s infuriating. The guy clearly thinks that Steve’ll give because he’s short and skinny. He’s got another think coming.

“My sister is freaking out because she dropped the one she was gonna cook for our family,” the guy replies, tugging the turkey toward him. Steve can feel himself slide forward and curses his size. “Besides, I saw it first, kid.”

“I’m fuckin’ twenty-five, asshole, don’t call me kid,” Steve growls, clearly surprising the brunet. “And we grabbed it at the exact same time, so maybe _I_ saw it first.”

“Sorry, you just look-” the brunet begins, and Steve glares at him, silently daring him to say something along the lines of _like you’re still in high school,_ which is what he usually gets, but the man seems to think better of it, and just finishes with, “Sorry. We use kid as a term of endearment in my family, so I wasn’t tryin’ to offend ya.”

“So what do we do?” Steve asks after a beat of silence.

“I’ll pay you for it,” the taller man nods toward the turkey, looking at the price on the sticker as he tightens his grip on the bird with one hand and reaches for his wallet with the other. “Cost of the turkey plus fifty bucks. Whaddaya say?”

“Are you serious?” Steve asks, brow furrowing and lips curling into something close to a sneer. “I don’t want your money, pal. I just wanna give my ma a nice Thanksgiving. You’re gonna have to look elsewhere for a turkey. I will fuckin’ fight you for it.”

The other man’s gray eyes widen comically as he looks down at Steve. “I’m not gonna fight _you_ for a turkey, kid.”

“Oh, what?” Steve bristles at the brunet’s tone. “Just because I’m small, you think I can’t fight? I could do this all day, pal.”

“Or,” the brunet replies, gray eyes still wide as he observes Steve. “You and your ma could just come to my sister’s for Thanksgiving dinner.”

Steve blinks, completely thrown by the matter-of-fact suggestion. “What?”

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s thrilled to learn that the feisty little blond is only a couple of years younger than he is as they argue. Well, Bucky’s not really arguing so much as trying to talk the blond down from an honest-to-god fistfight in a nearly-empty grocery store on Thanksgiving morning. 

Bucky has to stifle a laugh at the shock on the guy’s face when he suggests the young man and his mother join Bucky’s family for dinner. The turkey’s plenty big enough for six, Bucky explains, and he can buy extra food for the side dishes.

“My family wouldn’t mind,” Bucky grins. “I could tell’m you’re my new boyfriend who decided last minute he wanted to join us and that your ma’s comin’ too.”

“Boyfriend?” the blond practically squeaks, and _Jesus,_ this guy's fucking _adorable._ “Are you crazy?”

Bucky smirks, leaning down until he’s level with the blond’s sapphire eyes. They are, Bucky thinks, probably the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen, framed by long, dark lashes that are beyond unfair. “What, am I not your type?”

“That’s not the point!” the blond exclaims, beet red as he glares up at Bucky. “And no, cocky assholes are not my type.”

“Really?” Bucky chuckles, reaching out to run a finger along the blond’s cheek, smirking as the smaller man shivers. “Because the way you’re blushin’ right now suggests otherwise, kid. Lemme just call my sister.”

“Fine,” the other man bites out, frowning. “But tell her I’m a _friend_ , not your _boyfriend_.”

“Your loss, pal,” Bucky shrugs, smirking as he dials his sister. “You’re cute, and I’m a phenomenal kisser. Coulda had some laughs, but fine. What’s your name?”

The blond seems to soften a little at this, replying, “Steve  Rogers.”

“Nice to meetcha, Steve,” Bucky grins. “My name’s James Barnes, but everybody calls me Bucky.”

 

* * *

 

Once the brunet - Bucky - has finished talking to his sister, the two of them place the turkey in Steve’s cart and then proceed to grab some extra food for the sides. Despite Steve’s vocal protests, Bucky insists that he’s paying for all of it.

“Rogers,” Bucky smirks as he hands his credit card to the cashier. “Do me a favor and let me prove I’m not quite the cocky asshole you think I am, all right? Let me treat?”

Steve acquiesces, mumbling that just because somebody pays for food doesn’t mean they’re not a cocky asshole, but there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He supposes that's because the brunet’s grin is infectious.

The two of them exchange numbers outside the store and Bucky texts Steve his address.

“That way you and your ma aren’t walkin’ into a strange house without knowin’ anybody,” Bucky explains, and Steve snorts.

“I don’t really _know_ you,” Steve answers, snickering as Bucky clutches at his chest.

“After all we’ve been through in the last-” Bucky glances down at his watch- “Twenty minutes? Steven, I’m _hurt.”_

“You’re ridiculous is what you are,” Steve giggles, but the laughter dies in his throat as Bucky smirks, backing him up against the store wall.

“You’re probably right,” the brunet smirks, a laugh rumbling low in his chest. “And just so you know, even though I referred to you as a friend, my sister read that as you and I dating because she’s about as ridiculous as I am. Plus, she can always hear it in my voice when I have a crush. So, I can argue the point with her when we get there-” Bucky leans down until his lips are nearly touching Steve’s own, and the blond shivers at their proximity- “But if you change your mind, I’d be more than game to couple up.”

Bucky pulls back, looking beyond smug, and now Steve can’t decide whether he’d rather belt that smart mouth or kiss it.

“I gotta drop all this off,”  Bucky smiles, stepping back and lifting his arms to indicate the bags. “But I’ll see you and your ma at my place around three. And if I’m gonna be playing the role of boyfriend tonight, shoot me a text. I’d like to make a good impression on my future mother-in-law.”

And with a wink that has Steve weak in the knees, Bucky turns and walks off down the street, hips swaying in a way that suggests he _knows_ Steve is checking out his ass.

“Fuck,” Steve whispers to himself, mind reeling as he begins walking home, debating the pros and cons of the situation he’s managed to get himself into and wondering what he ought to do.

Well, his mother _has_ been harping on him about his love life lately…

Steve grins as he pulls out his phone to text Bucky, and if his hands are trembling a little, well, that’s understandable. Bucky might be a cocky asshole, but he’s a _hot_ cocky asshole. 

 _So, just how good a kisser are we talkin’ here?_ Steve sends it before he can overthink it,

The response comes a few minutes later. _Knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. Can’t wait to tell our future adopted kiddos how I met their dad ;-)_

Steve’s pretty sure Bucky’s only kidding around, but there’s a strange warmth blooming in his chest as he reads those words. It takes Steve a minute to recognize it for what it is.

Hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
